


My Shot

by AtheneNoctua



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: BV - Freeform, Backgrounds, Before the Vongola, Domestic Violence, F/M, Romance, i swear it's not that bad, mainly manipulation and implied violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-12 17:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11741730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtheneNoctua/pseuds/AtheneNoctua
Summary: This is the story of Daemon and Elena.  Of who they are.  Of how they met.  Of how they fit in the Vongola.  Their goals and futures united them in ways neither could have guessed.





	1. Different Households

**Chapter 1**

“Lady Elena, please stop!”

Elena sighed.  One of her maids was trying to stop her from leaving.  Again.  “Alessia, I’ll be fine.”

“But your father-!”  Alessia looked positively frantic.  Her black hair frizzed around her shoulders.  Her green eyes looked into Elena’s blue ones desperately.

“He doesn’t have to know.  Just tell him that I’m not feeling well and am staying in my room for the day if he asks.”  Her father always worried about her.  As a child, it had been endearing.  As a growing young woman, it was a bit of an irritation.

“Lady Elena…”

Elena took her hands.  They were coarse compared to Elena’s.  “Please, Alessia.  I’ll be back before he even realizes.”

The dress Elena wore was old and dusty around the hem.  The fabric was starting to become worn around the elbows and knees.  She carefully covered her head with a scarf and slipped on the old shoes.  She moved towards the panel in the wall.  “I promise.”

Upon hearing a weak agreement from Alessia, Elena flew down the narrow servants’ stairs until she got outside.

*****

The basket weighed heavily in Elena’s hands as she walked into the church.  She’d taken off the scarf and left it by her horse, Liberta.  The basket was filled past the brim as it wasn’t very large. 

A soft light shone through the paned windows at the front of the church.  The ceiling rounded gently, leaving just a little room for people’s heads.  It had a nice homey feeling that wasn’t found in the cathedral she attended. 

“Lady Elena, you’re back already?”  A middle-aged man walked towards her from the front of the church.  His robe would have indicated his status even if she didn’t know him. 

“Father Andrea,” Elena started.  “I heard about Batista and came as soon as I can.  I have extra food and some herbs-“

Father Andrea chuckled.  “I’m afraid someone already beat you to it.” 

“What?”  Elena was astounded.  She had visited the farmers and villagers here, and the lord of the area never did anything for them.  As far as she knew, there was nobody else who cared about the area.  “Who?”

Father Andrea gestured for her to take a seat.  “It was a young boy around your age.  He said his name was Giotto.  I got the impression he was passing through, but I’m not sure.  He gave Batista some herbs and she mysteriously found some money in her drawer.”

Elena shook her head.  It was rare to have visitors and rarer still for them to be helpful.  “Regardless, could you give this basket to her?  She’ll need the extra food if she starts to recover, especially with her children.”

“I’ll make sure she gets it, my lady.  She’ll appreciate it.  You always do more than necessary for the people here.”  Father Andrea bowed his head. 

“It still isn’t enough.”  Elena’s face was pained.  “Lord Carlando should have never been a lord.  Last I heard, he’s continuing those parties of his by raising the taxes here.  I’d rather have someone like you or Batista in charge.  Doesn’t Lady Batista have a nice ring to it?”

“Lady Elena, the change you’re looking for is not going to happen.  At least not here and not now.”  Father Andrea stood up. 

“But if someone just-“

“What would happen if one of us did become the new lord?  We wouldn’t know what to do.  It’s best if we do the best we can with the lot we were given.”

Elena stood up too.  For a second her voice almost sounded wild from desperation.  “We can do better than that.  If we put people in charge who actually-“

“I admire your resolve, but here is not the place to discuss.”  Father Andrea had raised a hand to silence her.  “If Lard Carlando even knew we were having this discussion, it would not end well for either of us.”

It was embarrassing for her to be silenced like this.  But arguing with him wouldn’t help.  Biting back her words, her jaw tense from the effort, she nodded.  “You’re right.  It wouldn’t end well.  I’ll be back next week.  Send word if anything changes.”

Elena walked swiftly to the door, only to be stopped by Father Andrea’s voice.  “Please, don’t think that I don’t appreciate what you do.  Our little spot of the world is a little brighter thanks to you.”

Her eyes softened as she looked back. It eased her indignation.  “Thank you, Father.  You are one of the most honorable men I have met.”

“Safe travels, Lady Elena,” Father Andrea smiled.  “We can’t have anything happen to our favorite patron.”

“I’ll do my best.  And if I may ask of you a favor,” Elena’s voice trailed off.  She was unsure if asking it was wise.

“Yes?”

“If you hear of that man again, please let me know.  I’d be interested in meeting him.”

“I’ll send word as quickly as I can,” he promised.  “Think you may finally have a match?” 

The question was said as a joke, but Elena knew exactly what he was talking about.  The latest bout of suitors had all been successfully avoided.  It was amazing how loud a man could scream and how fast he could move when he finds a frog in his wardrobe.  “I assure you, it’s strictly business.  I have no interest in men.  After all, I’m only fifteen.”

“Your father just wants to make sure you have a good future.”

“I don’t think he controls my future.”  Elena was tired of this argument.  Everyone around her used it when she showed even the slightest irritation with these plans.  “You’ve heard of Risalita, right?  She’s not married.” 

Oretta Risalita was one of Elena’s favorite composers.  She was the daughter of the famed Cosimo Risalita.  She’d been an inspiration to Elena and in return, Elena did her best to sponsor the young composer.  Oretta was still having to fight for work as a woman and many still tried to give her father the credit.  Cosimo did nothing to quell the rumors.

“Risalita is not from the house of Sforza.  Nor is she necessarily doing that well.”  A small frown graced Father Andrea’s face.  “You are King Mateo’s cousin.  Your family’s reputation is at stake.”

“I’m going to go home.”  Elena was only going to get mad if she stayed here.  She was aware of her place in the world.  Others didn’t need to remind her of this.

“I’ll keep you in my prayers.”

“And you in mine.” 

With that reply Elena raised her scarf and left.

~~~~~

“Which one do you want to read this time?” Daemon asked.  He’d brought several books with him and had set them down on the bed side table.

A young girl who looked to be about six years younger than him was sitting on the bed and looking up at him eagerly.  Lavender hair cascaded down past her shoulders.  Her frame was almost too slender in the way that suggested illness. 

“The one with the ghost,” she replied immediately.

“Are you sure?”  Daemon raised an eyebrow and chuckled.  “If I remember right, that gave you nightmares last time, Eumelia.”

“I’m sure.”  Her bright smile earned one in return from Daemon.

“If you do get scared, you can come sleep with me tonight.”  It wouldn’t be the first time.  Eumelia got scared easily and would sometimes run to his room in the middle of the night.  He only worried about their father finding out or her accidentally hurting herself. 

Eumelia’s health was often poor.  It was this reason that he was there right now to read to her.  Besides bringing in a doctor every so often, she was mainly ignored by their father.  Their mother claimed it was because he was busy.  Daemon suspected he just didn’t care.  Or even worse, that he hoped something would happen to her.  She couldn’t pass on the family name after all.  Daemon had heard him say before that Eumelia was only a waste of resources.

“I know,” Eumelia said.  Sometimes it crossed Daemon’s mind that she may be a bit too forward.

Settling down, Daemon picked the book out of the pile.  It was at this moment Daemon heard the hallway go unusually quiet.  That was never good.

Daemon rose just as the doors to the room opened.  A man with a muscular build filled the doorway.  His hair was a shade darker than Daemon’s and pulled back with a ribbon.

“Daemon.”  The voice was instantly scolding and commanding.  “You are supposed to be with your tutor right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Daemon said softly.  His father, Nicola Spade, was intimidating.  To Daemon, his father had never left the war.  He certainly the house like it. 

“You need to go now.”  His speech was clipped in a way that didn’t waste time.  His eyes burned into Daemon.  It wasn’t necessary when anger rolled off him in waves. 

“I’ll be back later,” Daemon said to Eumelia softly.  He didn’t look at her.  The last thing he needed was to draw attention to her.

“You will not be.  There is no reason for you to be spending time in here.  You need to focus on your studies.  These books,” he took the one from Daemon’s hand, “are stories.  They won’t help you.  I should have burned them long ago.”

He began to walk away with the book when Eumelia began to cry.  She leapt from the bed before Daemon could stop her.  For someone as sick as she was, she moved fast.  Not unlike the deer that their father hunted.

“Papa no!”  Her wail upset Daemon more than anything.  She was gripping the tail of their father’s jacket.  “Please.  I’ll be good.”

Daemon sensed the movement of Nicola’s hand before it could be seen.  He lunged and grabbed his father’s hand before it could smack her.  Eumelia was pushed out of the way by the action.  Daemon created a barrier between them.

The glare his father gave him was enough to kill.  Nicola’s voice was cold as ice.  “How dare you interfere.”

In an instant, Daemon was being pulled out of the room.  There was a pause as Nicola stopped to lock the door behind them. 

Daemon knew exactly what was going to come.  The looks from the servants in the hall made that clear.  He held no regrets though.  It was better him than Eumelia. 

It could never be her.  She wasn’t strong enough.


	2. Tick Tock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pianoforte as in the instrument piano. It used to be called pianoforte.

**Chapter 2**

“Hello, father,” Elena said brightly.

“Good evening, Elena,” replied the man at the head.  The edges of his dress shirt had a light layer of dust from the road.  Small pieces of straw were stuck to his shoulders.  His blue eyes were slightly droopy and thinning hair feathered the top of his head.  It gave him an unkempt appearance that never failed to make her think of an old dog.  Thus was Piero.

The skirt of her dress bunched as she took her seat at the table, making the chair seem smaller than it was.  Her back already ached from the stiff carved wood.  There hadn’t been a chance for her to rest all day.

Elena had come back from visiting Father Andrea and changed back into a clean blue dress.  She’d barely managed to make it to her pianoforte* lessons.  As far as she could tell, her father wasn’t suspicious.

“Elena, I have something I need to talk to you about,” he started.

Her heart dropped into stomach immediately dropped.  She’d been so sure he hadn’t known.  The words tumbled out of her mouth.  “I’m sorry, papa.  I couldn’t-“

“Sorry for what?”  His eyebrows furrowed in seemingly genuine confusion.  “Don’t tell me you’ve gone out again.”

“No,” Elena lied smoothly.  Relief threatened to collapse her façade.  He didn’t know.  Piero’s senses weren’t what they used to be.  She flashed a bashful smile at him.  “I’m just sorry that I’m not improving faster in my lessons.  I can’t stop dreaming.”

Her father sighed and paused in his eating.  Elena avoided making direct eye contact with him and instead stared at his nose.  There was a small freckle on the side that she made her focal point.  “All the more reason for the upcoming suitor.  You need to start thinking about your future.”

“I’m not marrying anyone.”  Her eyes flickered up to meet his for a moment.  How many times did they have this conversation?  She wanted freedom, not a husband. 

The horror stories of arranged marriages she’d heard were numerous.  Some women had gone mad under the rule of their partner.  One had even caused her kingdom to go bankrupt after obsessively buying clothes.  Over a hundred different pieces of clothes were auctioned off before she was moved to the asylum.

“I’m not suggesting marriage yet.  However, it would behoove you to at least have someone set up for when that time comes.”  Piero’s shoulders hunched slightly.  His weathered face seemed to drop.  “I won’t live forever.  I want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

Without letting her interject, he continued.  “I will be hosting a party in a couple month’s time for him.  You may like him.  He’s about your age.”

“Who is it?”  A small smile crept up on her face.  Perhaps it would assuage her father if she showed some interest. The result would be the same.

“Daemon Spade, Nicola Spade’s son.”

A chill ran through her. “Him?!”

“Elena, you’ve run off just about everyone else.  Even ones you haven’t met yet.”

Elena felt numb.  The Spades had a reputation.  Nicola may be a war hero, but he was incredibly cruel if rumors were to be believed.  The one redeeming quality was his wife.  Her grandfather was from Greece and had been tutor to Nicola’s father.  Ignoring what those around him had said, Nicola had fallen in love with her.

While nothing was said about his children, she didn’t have high hopes.  It wasn’t hard to see what the cruelty of a parent could do to their children. 

“Father,” Elena said as calmly as she could, “surely there’s someone else.  Nicola is-“

“We are talking about his son, Elena.”  Piero’s tone was brusque.  “Not Nicola.”

“But he’s Nicola’s son-“ 

“Exactly.  And you should not judge him because of his parents.” 

“Then how am I supposed to judge him?” Elena snapped.  Their whole society was based on judgement of their parents.  If you didn’t have the proper lineage, you were nothing.

“On himself.”  Piero quietly picked up his silverware again.  “The boy may be nothing like his father.  I love you, Elena.  This is your last opportunity unless you want to marry out of country.  I don’t want to see you leave.”

Elena’s plate was suddenly very interesting.  The roast chicken now had very little steam rising from its golden skin.  She caught a glimpse of herself reflected on the silver. Creases formed around her eyes that she tried to relax.  A small tug of her lips upwards fixed the beginnings of a frown.  He may be right, but she still had no intention of marriage.  “If I go through with this, may I at least choose the composer?”

“Elena, you can choose everything if you give him a chance.” 

Elena nodded and looked up at her father.  The lie she was about to tell was the best she’d ever told.  “Perhaps he’ll be the one.”

“That’s my girl.”

*****

Daemon glanced over his shoulder before sneaking into Eumelia’s room.  It was late at night and his eyes had adjusted to the moonlight that filtered through the high windows.  Dust motes spiraled down before settling on the stone floor.  The stone walls trapped the heat from earlier in the day.  During times like these he could visit her without repercussion. 

“Eumelia.”  Daemon softly shook her shoulder.

Purple hair fell to the side as she looked up.  Tangles fell in her half open eyes.  “Daemon?”

“I brought you a treat,” he said.  He held up a few dresses for her to see.  The colors of the layered fabric were washed out in shades of grey.  “It’s been a while.”

Eumelia scrambled to push back the covers.  Scrambling over on her hands and knees, she ran her fingers over the fabric.  Her hands stopped on the second dress.  The fabric easily could have drowned her.  “This one’s too big.”

Daemon chuckled.  “You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”

The moon didn’t have to light up her face.  “You’ll let me!”

“Just don’t tell father.”  Without other girls her age, Daemon had been letting Eumelia dress him up since she got ill.  Their father wouldn’t be happy if he found out.  Passing off his longer hair as the latest fashion, he’d been growing it out for her. 

Times like this it was easy to see the life that had once possessed her. 

*****

The sound of a violin could be heard on the other side of the door before Elena knocked on it.

After a moment of silence the door opened.  “Hello?”

The girls who answered was just a bit taller than Elena with black hair pulled into a bun.  Her eyes matched the light wood of the door she held open.  The crinkled as she moved to the side.

“Elena, it’s good to see you again.”

Elena’s eyes wandered to the paper on the table.  It was scribbled on so much that the notes could hardly be seen anymore.  “You’re working on another piece?”

“My work is never done,” she said.  The violin was moved off the chair.  “Especially since it seems like I may have a commission soon.”

“You guessed right, Oretta.”  Elena took the seat, carefully avoiding the poorly placed violin at her feet.  “My father is planning a party in a couple month’s time.  He’s let me choose the composer.”

“And you want me?”  Oretta stood with her arms crossed.  “Will that be alright?”

“Yes.  It will be good publicity for you, too.”

She sighed and leaned on the table.  “Looks like double the work now.”

“You have another commission?”  It was rare for Oretta to get work.

She nodded and turned to organize the papers.  “A boy heard me playing on the street the other day.  He asked if I composed and told me he had a friend who would like my music.  Said he’d have a commission for me in a week or two.”

“What was his name?”  Elena leaned forward, her heart skipping a little. 

“It was Giotto.”  Oretta picked up the violin and placed it on the table.  “He said he’d be back to give me details.  Do you know him?”

“Not yet.  But he helped another friend of mine.” 

“You said you had a commission though?”  Oretta rapped on Elena’s head lightly, causing her to jolt.  “I don’t have exact orders yet, so I can focus on yours.”

Elena nodded.  “Yes.  It for another suitor-“

“Oh, boy.  Don’t get me involved this time.”

“I won’t if you shut up and listen,” Elena said teasingly.  “And if you promise to introduce me to this Giotto when he comes again.”

“Deal.  Now talk.”

*****

“What is this for?”  Daemon spoke quietly and didn’t look at his father. 

“Piero Sforza’s party.”

A tailor ran around him with a low hum that reminded Daemon of the bees outside the window.  “Sforza?  As in-“

“As in the uncle to the king.”  Nicola stepped in front of him, cutting off Daemon’s view of the pond.  The light cast shadows on his face.  “We are lucky for this chance.”

“How did you arrange this, father?”  Daemon’s chest was tight.  He couldn’t look away. 

“It didn’t require any arrangement.”  As his father walked to the side to examine the fabrics, Daemon’s breath rushed out of his lungs.  “The girl has driven off everyone else.”

Fingernails dug into his chin as his face was turned to his father.  “You will not fail with this, Daemon.  She is our best chance to elevate our name.”

“Yes, father.” 

He was released as Nicola turned his attention to the fabric.  His hand rested on a dark blue.  “This one will do.”


End file.
